In Posse
by Tada Taro
Summary: In a world of magic, a lonely girl nearly dies, saved by an old magician, and finds a new way opened before her. It's her story of friendship, adventures and simple miracles.
1. The Old Oak

It's cold. I can barely feel my legs.

I see only white. It obscures my vision completely, while the harsh wind bites into my naked arms and legs, making my tiny body tremble every time it changed direction. It's so painful to move, my skin slowly turns blue and black in some places, but I'm too scared to stop. I'm scared that, if I stop, I will die.

I don't want to die, but the more I advance, the less I'm able to think. I don't understand where I am, some sort of mountain or such. I barely even remember who I am. I don't remember so many things… like who I am… where I come from… what is my name… why am I here… all those things are irrelevant, so I throw them away along the road, feeling the only desire to move forward.

I make another step, and my body finally reaches its limit. I fall to the ground, unable to stand upright anymore, and treacherous voice at the back of my mind grows louder. It tells me to give up and simply let this all happen. It would be so easy to give up, to simply stop this altogether and rest…

I'm such an idiot. I try to shout and hope that there's someone around here. I refuse to surrender. I know that chances of somebody crossing those mountains are extremely low, even impossible, but rationality never was my forte. I shout and a tiny, almost defeated voice escapes my lips. I plea for someone to find and save me from this icy hell.

"Oh? Now, what do we have here?"

I look up and see a person that reminds me of a mighty and old oak. I remember that… there was an old tree growing near my window. It was all wrinkled and withered, but still looked very sturdy and elegant despite its advanced age. It had hidden strength, my father used to tell me, and like this tree, we too must only grow stronger with each passing century. It was this kind of tree that this person reminded me of, a wrinkled and sturdy oak.

"Are you taking a stroll, young lady? If that's the case, then you surely made a rather poor choice of clothing," he said, mockingly scolding me like a kind, old grandfather.

I chuckle at his joke, and perhaps, this was the straw that broke the camel's back since I finally lost my conscious. In the last moments, I saw his face suddenly turn from mildly playful into dead serious in an instant. I saw his lips move, trying to tell me something possibly important, perhaps trying to reassure me everything would turn out fine. I didn't care anymore at this point, but that last gesture was… nice of him.

"It will all be good, young one! It will be fine, so keep your eyes open!"

And the time passes. I open my eyes and instead of the all-engulfing whiteness of snow, I see only white sheets of a comfortable bed under me. It's soft, as if I'm resting on a puffy cloud. I feel relaxed and completely at peace. I look around some more, and see a place filled with sunlight, where everything is made of wood for some reason, as if this whole house was made from a carved from inside tree.

It's when a strange lady with pink hair and a red cape adorned with fangs across her collar appears, closely peering at me and suddenly taking away the bedsheet with one swift movement. I peer at my charred, black legs and find nothing to say.

"It is as I thought," she says, sounding very displeased. I try to apologize, in the case I did something bad, but she instead silences me with a sharp gesture and tells me to get dressed, pointing at a pile of clothes draped over a wooden chair nearby. I try to reach them, but clumsily fall from my bed. I try to stand up, but can't.

"It's still too early for you to move those legs around, girl." I look up and see her wrinkled face twist into a deep frown on her face. It must be because I'm so clumsy that she turned so displeased with me. I bowed my head in shame and said.

"I'm sorry for troubling you so much, madam." I remember saying those words long time ago, repeating them times and times, while standing on my knees. It was a vivid scene to me: a scared, little girl, begging on her knees for forgiveness, and a harsh mistress with cold eyes, not unlike the pink-haired lady before me.

"I'm no madam, girl, and I don't see why you should say sorry. It's not you're at fault for getting a frostbite from walking deep within the mountains barefoot," she says and gently, motherly even, picks me up and puts back on the bed. "I'll help you get dressed, so don't tussle too much or I'll drop you."

I smile and say to her. "You're really kind, miss." It doesn't matter if she's so scary-looking, since the moment I felt her arms wrap around me, I felt extreme sense of warmness spread across my body, making me feel happy and safe. I don't know my name yet, and I can't tell what will happen next, but this person and that person before… the oak-tree old man… both of them were really warm.

"It's Porlyusica, girl. Now, let's get you dressed, so I can show that worrywart Warrod that you're all fine and well," the lady nags at me, but I don't mind. I remember another woman saying nearly the same words somewhere in the past, while showing me a loving smile.

It was the moment that everything changed and my whole life turned upside down. I made lots of friends later, saw incredible things and found a place called home. Yet, if I were to tell the story of my life, this would be the starting point: a miraculous rescue and a magical place.


	2. The Kind Madame

In a year, my health slowly got better and my legs became strong enough for me to take occasional strolls around the house of my savior, a kind lady with pink hair and wrinkled face that seemed to be always frowning. I started calling her madam in my mind because her presence reminded me of another old lady from my past. I seldom see dreams about my past – or what I think is my past – but in those rare cases, the most vivid picture in my dreams is about a gracefully aged lady, wearing glasses and reading some kind of a tome, too heavy for me to carry and too difficult to understand.

I now spend my afternoons in the madam's garden, bathing in the sunlight and gazing at the local fauna. I steal another glance at a gigantic tree that is actually serves as the madam's home, where she often practices some weird experiments, when she's not in the forest, picking valuable herbs, or taking care of occasional visitors. I noticed that nearly all of the madam's visitors seem to have wounds of some kind, which makes the madam really angry. I must admit that when angry, my madam is really scary, chasing around with a broom and sending curses at everyone else.

I also theorized that she is a healer of some kind, considering how skillfully she took care of my frostbites. "If you have time to stare at the clouds like an idiot, you may as well help me with house-cleaning, ungrateful girl," the madam calls me from her porch, "honestly, don't you have better thing to do?"

It's unforgivable! I am not allowed to act so lax towards someone to whom I own my life. I stand from my place and try to run back, but since my legs are still somewhat wobbly, I fall on my face. It's so disgraceful. "I'm sorry, mistress! I'll clean the whole house right away!" I beg her, trying to stand again, when a pair of arms picks my tiny body up and allows me to seat. I try to apologize again, but madam instead flicks my forehead, not allowing to insert even a word.

"I see," her expression turns grave, so I shrink, trying to look smaller. "If your legs are still weak, then you should've told me so. I thought you were fine already, but it seems that you still need some time for recovery," she sighed and rubs her forehead with her fingers, a tic I found quite interesting. "In any case, you should tell me when it hurts, okay? I hate this kind of patients more than anything."

I merely nod, unable to form coherent words. It's what I was talking about: my madam is extremely kind, ready to take care of such a burden like me, even though I do nothing but eating her food and spending my time idly reading books or dreaming. I shan't be so helpless. In the future, I'll make sure to return my debt to her with my life.

I follow her to the tree-house, where delicious food awaits. I don't remember tasting something so great in my whole life. In fact, since I have almost no recollection of eating anything tasty before, every meal I have seems superb to my tastes. It's a joke I silently laugh about, which makes the madam smile wryly and sigh a bit, as telling that there's no helping this girl. In the end, when she starts picking up our plates to wash, the madam starts speaking.

"In a week or so, I'll be having visitors, so don't be surprised when they come," she says and then adds some more, "I'm telling you this, so you won't do anything rash. I mean, children like you often are wary of strangers, and that ticks me off, so treat them like you treat me or that old fossil, okay?" Oh, and that "old fossil" is what the madam calls the elderly man that found me in the mountains. I haven't seen him since that time, however. It's a shame since I want to show my gratitude to him as well. If it wasn't for that old man, I would've been dead by now, frozen to the bone.

"I… I'll make sure to treat them with proper respect and manners," I obey. I remember that in the house where I worked before, all people had to be treated like this because they were my superiors in every sense. I remember their flourishing clothes, but come to think of this, those luxurious clothes are the only thing I can remember about those people.

Instead of acknowledgement, I heard the sound of someone trying to stifle a laugh. I look at the madam and see her clutching her mouth with one hand. I was about to run to her side, when the pink-haired woman started laughing. "R-Respect, you say?! That old fool… a-ha-ha… treated with proper respect… ha-ha-ha… and manners! That's a really funny joke, girl!"

I try to ask what's so funny about my words, but the madam answers my silent question. "Listen, girl, that man and whoever will come with him should not be treated like some nobles or such. In fact, I'm sure that they themselves don't even _want_ to treated this way. If you want to please them, act like a complete fool: be merry and laugh, like all children do, and like how you don't for some reason."

I feel my cheeks turn red at her words, especially at the last accusation. "It's what I'm talking about. Is your idea of "improper" manners having fun or something? I mean, in my whole life, I've never seen such a miserable girl before. If you need an order, here it is then: act your age and stop bugging me with those puppy eyes!" I gape like a fish and then… I simply smile.

"If that's what the mistress wants," I say and make a curt bow. It was a completely ungraceful, wobbly mockery of a proper bow, and I should've felt ashamed for this, but honestly… I felt that only this kind of bow was "proper" for this occasion.

"Heh, smart-ass, aren't you? Now, go to your bed, but don't forget to apply the healing salve first. In the meantime, I have to find some ingredients that I remember stashing somewhere ages ago. It's not like people need artificial eyes all the time, dammit!"


End file.
